Displaying Dominance
by beb272
Summary: A case hits close to home for Olivia and Peter. POlivia and Peter jealousy. Lincoln Lee. T for quasi-adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

A case that puts Olivia at risk really gets to Peter. Awesome Peter protectiveness and jealousy.

Takes place in the non-existent happy period after Olivia returns from the other side and they start dating, but before the Fringe world ending apocalypse of the season 3 finale.

A/N: I am not a scientist and none of the science-y stuff in here is real, or plausible. I've made it all up. So don't fault me for that!

* * *

><p>ACT I<p>

Peter slid back into bed, between the cool sheets and the wooly, army green blanket. His rustling, however gentle, stirred the sleeping woman beside him.

She blinked, rolling from her side to her stomach as Peter wrapped his arm around her. "Morning," she whispered through a yawn.

"Ah, yes," Peter said. "It's only 6:30, and already I've stopped Walter from setting the house on fire. He was in the kitchen doing some crazy experiment."

"Oh, no," Olivia said, nuzzling into Peter's underarm.

"But don't worry, despite being half asleep and thoroughly exhausted from last night's activities," Here Peter paused, a devilish grin across his face. "I did manage to here the clash and bang of Walter's experiment before he did too much damage."

"My hero," Olivia said, sighing as she breathed in the sweet, earthy scent of Peter's bare skin.

"Hey, don't mock me. You may be the ass kicking FBI agent, but I have to find some way to assert my manhood around here."

He wrapped his arm tighter around Olivia, who had now migrated from the pillow she had been lying on to the inside of Peter's arm. He kissed her forehead gently.

"I think you did that last night quite well." She opened her eyes to look up at Peter, who was still smirking with a crooked, devious smile. Before he could reply, a buzzing came from the cell phone on his night table.

"Damnit," Peter said, picking up Olivia's ringing phone and handing it to her. "I was hoping I could prove myself again before we have to go save the world from the weird and terrible."

"Dunham," Olivia said into the phone, still cuddled into Peter's chest. "Yessir, I'll get the Bishops. We'll be there soon." She put the phone down, and hugged Peter tightly. "Can't we just get one free day where the fate of the universe isn't relying on me waking before 8 A.M?"

"I wish," Peter said, kissing her again. Olivia sighed at the feeling of Peter's scruffy face touching her forehead, the most gentle and loving touch she'd ever felt.

She reached up to run her hand through Peter's scuffy beard and he smiled at her. "We should get up, shouldn't we?"

* * *

><p>-SUTTON, MA-<p>

Olivia, Walter and Peter emerged from a black SUV and walked past the many police officers and CSI techs to meet Broyles, who stood over a mangled and cut up body.

A woman, blonde, lay lifeless among the bushes at his feet. Her skin was bluish in tint, her lips and eye sockets purple. Her skull had been cracked open and it was clear someone had been rooting around inside it.

"What have we got," Olivia said to Broyles, who sternly looked down at the body.

"Female, 30. Name Christina Petroski, killed, cut up and dumped in the woods. ME can't quite settle on a time of death. It appears she was killed days ago, and possibly preserved in formaldehyde. Decay has been stunted severely."

"Okay," Olivia said, nodding her head.

Peter, who had crouched down to better view the body, winced as he realized there were cuts covering a lot of her body. "While that's gruesome on it's own, why is this a fringe case?"

"The murder is similar to two open FBI cases. Both those victims grew up in Jacksonville, Florida on a military base. Cortexiphan subjects, confirmed by blood tests. We can't be certain until Walter tests this victim, but we think she was a subject too. She lived in Jacksonville until quite recently. It appears someone is hunting cortexiphan subjects and experimenting on them." Broyles looked at Olivia with his usual hard gaze.

"Cortexiphan kids," Olivia said, looking slowly from Broyles to Walter, who had a look of guilt on his face. Walter ducked behind Peter, almost as if in hiding.

"Wait," Peter said, holding up his hand. "If someone is hunting down cortexiphan subjects, Olivia should not be investigating. Whoever's doing this knows who was in the trial. They know Olivia was a subject. I am not risking that."

"Peter," Olivia said, "The only way to protect me from whoever's doing this is to find him before he finds me. Or any one else who was in the trial."

Peter ground his teeth and fisted his hands. "Broyles—" he said, trying to appeal to him. But Walter put his hand on his son's shoulder, garnering his attention.

"Olivia's right, son. Sitting in wait will do nothing to protect her." Walter looked sheepishly at his son, who was looking angrier by the second.

"Let's get this body back to the lab, then. " Olivia said, already walking towards her SUV. Peter looked down at the body and sighed heavily, then turned to follow her.

* * *

><p>-HARVARD UNIVERSITY-<p>

While Astrid and Walter were pouring over the body, Peter and Olivia sat in the office sifting through files on Christina Petroski, as well as the other two victims, Allison Jacobs and Samantha Goldberg.

They had been quiet for a while, Olivia immersed in the background files of the victims, Peter mostly shuffling through papers but unable to concentrate.

"Why all females," Peter said, staring at Olivia, his arms crossed across his grey sweater.

"I don't know, Peter. But you're right. It is the only connection between the victims, besides the cortexiphan trials. They weren't even living in the same area. One lived in Pennsylvania, the other in Connecticut, near Hartford, and the latest one here in Massachusetts. We need to figure out why they're being targeted, and how the killer knows about Cortexiphan. They weren't even abducted in similar places. Petroski was in a bar in Boston, Jacobs in a parking structure and Goldberg in her work building. How is he identifying them?"

"I don't like this," Peter said, clenching his teeth. "Whoever's doing this could be looking for you."

"Peter," Olivia said, reaching her hand over to Peter's, which was lying, clenched on the table. She picked it up, unballing his fist and began to intertwine their fingers. They continued to look at each other, Peter still clearly unhappy with the situation, Olivia trying to calm him with her gentle, green eyes.

Astrid walked into the office and the two quickly let go of each other's hands.

"You guys might want to hear this," Astrid said, a grim look on her face. They followed her out into the lab.

Walter was in the middle of dissecting the victim's brain, with a look of excitement on his face.

"Alright, what have you found, Walter," Peter asked.

"Smell," Walter said, but only Peter leaned forward. "What you should be smelling is formaldehyde, as the body was preserved in it. However, this body smells like sweat and the possibly the slightest bit of honey.

"Right here," he said, using a scalpel to pull back a portion of the brain. "This should be the hypothalamus, which is largely responsible for our reactions to pheromones. As sweat and perhaps honey, are possible reactive pheromones, I find this most curious. The unique odor leads me to believe that someone was perhaps using the cortexiphan in these woman's systems as a way to enhance the way we perceive pheromones, which are largely responsible for human attraction, not to mention sexual ar—"

"Okay, Walter, we get it," Peter said, cutting him off. "Someone's trying to make these women into a walking aphrodisiac."

"My question is, how did they know who to target? How could he know who had been exposed to cortexiphan. Massive Dynamic lost those files years ago."

"I think it's time to pay Nina Sharp a visit in New York," Peter said, crossing his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Still making up the science as I go along, so don't fault me for that. Also, this is unbetad so any mistakes are my own.

ACT II

Peter and Olivia were sitting in traffic in Manhattan. Peter had been very silent the entire trip, and Olivia hypothesized it had something to do with Broyles' not pulling her from the investigation. She'd heard him call Broyles back in Boston to update him on the case, as she organized the meeting with Nina, and overheard a few expletives.

"You gunna talk over there?" She looked over at Peter, who was stoically maintaining silence.

"What do you want me to say. You shouldn't be working this case."

"Peter, I of all people, should be investigating it. Not only were these women experimented on as children but now they're being targeted again. I can help them. I know I can."

"But we don't know how's he's taking his victims, where he's grabbing them from. All we know is that he's a pervert who has it out for cortexiphan subjects."

"I've been in dangerous situations like this before, though. I've handled them fine. I don't understand why you're suddenly acting like my life being in danger is a big deal."

Peter looked over at Olivia and scrunched up his eyebrows. The line on his forehead that often appeared when he furrowed his brows was deep and cavernous.

"'Livia. In the three years I've known you, I've watched you put yourself in danger case in and case out. Not to mention the number of times you've had your body, your mind completely violated. From my father's experiments, to your step-father, to—" he paused when he said the next word. "The other Olivia, and now William Bell. For once I'd like to be able to protect you from that, in a way that no one ever did before. You're always fighting these battles, and I get it, it's your job, the life you chose."

He looked at her and inhaled deeply, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel of the car. "We're together now, Olivia and every time I think about all the dangerous situations you get put in, I literally ache inside. And I worry."

"You don't need to," Olivia said, placing her hand on top of his, which was resting gently on the gear change.

"I'm just tired of seeing you hurt. It makes me feel like I'm not doing my job as the man in this relationship."

"You're doing your job just fine," Olivia said, unable to hold back a bit of laughter.

"Okay, I express concern about my girlfriend and get laughed at. Fantastic."

She looked over at him, to see he was biting the inside of his lower lip. She smiled, and gripped his hand tighter.

* * *

><p>-MASSIVE DYNAMIC-<p>

"Someone is hunting down Cortexiphan subjects?" Nina said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Olivia said, nodding her head. "And given the fact that in the past, you seem to be holding more cards than you're showing, I would like to know who was in that trial."

Nina paused, looking from Olivia, to Peter, who was standing leaned up against the bright wall, gazing out the abstractly shaped windows of her office. She mused he was being stoic due to his dislike of this particular fringe case.

"When I told you that I didn't have a list of cortexiphan subjects, I may not have been being entirely truthful. The truth is, the list was kept in a storage facility that was the target of a break in some years ago. A Massive Dynamic employee was fired for stealing data that was stored in that facility. Among the boxes taken, was the list William Bell kept of his cortexiphan subjects."

Olivia, pursing her lips in anger, said, "The name, of this employee, Ms. Sharp?"

"Jeremy Webster."

* * *

><p>-FEDERAL BUILDING, BOSTON-<p>

"We have a suspect," Olivia said, entering Broyles' office. "His name is Jeremy Webster. He was a former Massive Dynamic who may have stolen information about the cortexiphan trials. He was fired six years ago after breaking into a storage facility. He lives in Connecticut."

"Goodwork, Dunham. I'll get a search warrant for his house." Broyles was picking up the phone on his desk, dialing as Olivia exited his office.

In her own office, Peter was waiting patiently, sitting in a chair in the corner of her office, fiddling with a large gold coin.

"Broyles is getting a search warrant. We should get on our way to Connecticut. Can you call Walter? I want him there if we find anything." She slipped behind her desk and started filing away a manila folder in the bottom drawer of her desk.

Peter pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, standing up and walking behind the desk. He leaned against the desk, and looked down at Olivia.

"Peter don't start," she said, shaking her head. "You know I'm just doing my job."

"I know," he said, quietly. "I just really don't like this case." He leaned down to kiss her, but just as their lips touched, they heard a low coughing.

"Am I interrupting," Broyles asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry, sir," Olivia said, blushing fervently. "We were just about to leave for Connecticut."

"There's no need. When I called to get the search warrant, I was made aware that one had already been issued. It seems an Agent Lincoln Lee was investigating the Connecticut victim and had already made that connection."

* * *

><p>-HARVARD UNIVERSITY-<p>

"We meet again," Lee said, extending an arm to Peter to shake his hand, whom he had gotten along well with during their last case. He nodded to Walter, who was concentrated on looking at something through his microscope. "Peter," he nodded, adding "Dr. Bishop, Agent Farnsworth."

Olivia entered the lab shortly after Lee had, hanging up her cell phone. "Broyles has arranged for the evidence Agent Lee found at Webster's house to be transported here.  
>It should be here within the hour."<p>

She stepped down from the platform to where everyone else was standing.

"You must be Agent Lee," Olivia said, extending a hand.

Peter laughed, resting an arm on Olivia's shoulder. "Yes, you remember Agent Lee, from the Amanda Gray case a few weeks back." Olivia began to pick up on what Peter was hinting at.

"Oh, right," she said. "I must have forgotten."

There was an awkward silence, and Peter tried to break it. "Lee, did you bring any new files on Webster we can sift through while we wait for the evidence?"

"Yes," Lee said, still looking at Olivia, who was shifting on her feet. "We found a strange radio device in his house, but we can't seem to decipher what it's for. I was hoping Dr. Bishop would be able to help us with that. As for his motives, I'm still at a loss."

"Okay," Olivia said, offering her hand so Lee could give her the file. "I'll take a look at these and see if I can make any sense of it. Peter, why don't you and Walter update Lee with what we've got so far."

Olivia left the boys standing there, walking towards the office where she often went to go over paperwork. Lee's eyes lingered on Olivia as she walked.

"Is it just me, or does she seem different than when I was here last time?" Lee offered.

Peter laughed. "You have no idea."

* * *

><p>When the evidence from Webster's house arrived, Olivia had made some headway with theories about why Webster was doing what he was doing.<p>

"Is it possible that he's using these cortexiphan subjects' pheromones to attract men with sensitive information? It says here that the Connecticut victim, Allison Jacobs, was last seen near a military testing base by civilian witnesses who called in when her picture was on the news. And Petroski was seen in a bar frequented by military personnel. He's stolen information before. If the military testing base has something that he wants, it doesn't appear he'd have any ethical boundaries with enhancing these women's pheromones to seduce information out of powerful men."

"You think he's using these women to get information from high up military personnel?" Peter asked.

"Its possible. Why else would he be enhancing their pheromone levels?" Lee added. "If he stole from Massive Dynamic before, maybe he's selling the information."

Olivia furrowed her brows and looked at Walter. "Walter, have you made any headway with the radio device Lee found in Webster's laboratory at his house?"

Walter looked up from the strange device where he was connecting red wires to it. "I have a theory." He picked up the device, which seemed to have an antenna as well as a small screen to display some form of information. "This device seems to be broken, but it appears to be a device that identifies subjects of the cortexiphan trials. If Webster had a list of the subjects, he would need a way to confirm they were indeed in the trial. We know that David Robert Jones had Olivia kidnapped and a spinal tap to confirm. But that would hardly be practical. This device seems to pick up the heat signature of particular brain waves having to do with perception. Because cortexiphan works on perception, they're waves would be enhanced and Webster has capitalized on this. This device seems to be an identifier of sorts."

"If this one is broken, do you think he has another?" Olivia asked.

"I would imagine so."

"Okay, well how do we know who he's targeting next. Where is he looking for these victims."

"That's something I might be able to help with, Agent Dunham," Lee said holding up his smartphone. "My techs back in Hartford were working on unlocking some of the files Webster kept on his computer. They emailed me one just now. Supposedly a map."

"A map?" Peter asked.

Lee put his phone on the laboratory counter. On the screen, a tiny map of the north eastern part of the United States appeared, with bulletin pins marked throughout. "These seem to be the homes of the victims Webster has already killed. What about this forth pin, it's here in Massachusetts."

Lee tapped the screen and the phone zoomed into the pin. It hovered over Brighton, Massachusetts.

"Olivia," Peter said, panic spreading over his face. "That's your—"

"Apartment," she finished for him. "My apartment."

"I'm calling Broyles. He's pulling you from this case." Peter pulled his phone from the pocket of his faded jeans and stalked off into a corner.

"Let me get this straight," Lee said, pulling off his black, plastic framed glasses. "Webster is targeting you, which means you were…"

"A subject of the cortexiphan trials. Yes." Olivia looked at Lee's phone, which sat immobile on the counter, a small pin flashing over Olivia's home.

"Well, I think I might have an idea." He slipped the glasses back on and a smile spread across his face.

* * *

><p>AN: More to come. There will be five acts, if I have calculated my story correctly. Please review! I love them!


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter has some quasi-adult themes.

As always, I made all the science up. Don't fault me for it.

* * *

><p>ACT III<p>

-FEDERAL BUILDING, BOSTON-

Peter was sitting in Broyles office, waiting for him to return from a meeting. When he'd called to argue about the dangers of the present case, Broyles had said to come in for a meeting.

After about twenty minutes of waiting in a chair in the corner of the room, Broyles entered, and placed several folders on his desk.

"Peter, we need to talk." Broyles leaned up against his desk.

"Yes, yes we do," Peter said sternly. "Olivia's been kidnapped before, because of the cortexiphan in her system. I think it's best if she stays on desk duty for the rest of this case. Have someone else do the field work."

"Peter I understand your concerns. But Olivia has proved time and time again that she can handle herself. And you've never shown this much apprehension about her and a case." He paused, looking at Peter, who was flipping his coin through his fingers. His nervous tick.

"I know, Broyles. But I'm tired of seeing her at risk, especially because of what my father did to her. I just," he paused, looking for the words. "I'm trying to make up to her the harm my father caused."

"What your father did to her, that was not your fault."

Broyles and Peter stared at each other for a minute, sternness growing in both pairs of eyes.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Olivia was in her apartment, trying on clothes. In the middle of a case, this would normally be strange and inappropriate. But it was part of Lincoln's plan. She would draw out Webster, acting as his bait.<p>

She settled on a slim black dress, fitting her curves tightly, flowing slightly as she walked, fluttering above her knees. She was applying lipstick when Peter came from in from the other room. He looked agitated.

"You know I've got some whiskey in the cabinet…" she teased, rubbing her lips together and pouting in the mirror.

"Funny," Peter said. He leaned against the wall, watching his girlfriend essentially get ready for a date with another man. "How did Lincoln come up with this plan again?"

"Look, Peter," Olivia said, turning from her mirror and facing him. "I know it's not the ideal situation, but if Webster is really after me, and he knows where I live, if he sees me leave the apartment building, he'll follow me to the bar, and we can apprehend him in the act. The bar that Petroski was last seen at is less than five miles from my house. If he's looking, he'll find me."

"I know, I understand the plan. I just wish Broyles would have let me into the bar, too."

"You're not technically FBI. He couldn't get authorization for you to be undercover this time. You'll be in the van with Walter and Broyles. Watching, the entire time."

"Oh, great. I get to watch my girlfriend get hit on by other men. My favorite."

Olivia rolled her eyes and grabbed her keys, stuffing them into a small clutch purse, and adjusting the handgun that was strapped to her leg underneath the dress.

"I just don't like the idea of using you as bait to draw out this guy."

She kissed Peter as she walked to the front door, adjusting the brooch on her dress that housed the hidden camera.

"Remember, wait a bit before you leave so Webster doesn't think I'm with you. It works better that way."

* * *

><p>The bar was crowded already, when Olivia entered. She noticed the military feel of it immediately, the crew cuts and clean-shaven men spread throughout the bar. She scanned the bar to see if she could recognize Webster from the driver's license photo that was attached to his file, but she couldn't. She noticed Lee sitting at a table in the corner, clad in dark wash jeans and a black button down shirt.<p>

Nervously, Olivia walked up to the bar and slid onto the stool. She placed her clutch on the bar, and drummed her fingers along it gently. Without having waited a full minute, the bar tender approached her, smiling.

"What can I get for you?" He asked, staring into her pale blue eyes.

At that moment, a man slid into the stool beside her, staring at her with dark eyes.

"I'll have what the lady's having," he said, a twinkle behind his glasses. "And put them both on my tab."

"The lady hasn't ordered," the bartender said, still smiling.

"Scotch. Make it a double." She turned to the man, running a hand through her blonde hair. "Thank you, but I'm actually, ah, waiting for someone."

The bartender handed them their drinks and the man laughed a breathy laugh.

"Of course you are," he said. He placed his hand on her shoulder, rubbing gently. "I'll always buy a beautiful woman a drink, though."

Olivia nodded in thanks as the man walked away.

He continued to the far side of the bar, his eye still on Olivia.

He raised his hand to his mouth and whispered the words, "it's been applied. Test four has begun."

* * *

><p>In a black van parked not too far from the bar, Peter knocked on the window and Broyles let him in. Walter was already there, watching a tiny computer screen contentedly.<p>

"Lee's in the back of the bar, watching. Olivia just sat down. We're waiting to see if Webster will make contact. Lee spotted him at the bar earlier, but he left just before Olivia arrived."

"Why couldn't Lee just apprehend him then?"

"Peter you know as well as I do we need evidence to support Walter's theory, other than the identifying device. For all the court system knows, that things is a personal radio antennae."

Peter slouched down in the corner and watched the screen, which showed both the security camera from the bar, and the camera Olivia wore. A tall man with dark hair was talking to Olivia. He watched the screen that showed camera attached to Olivia's dress. It showed a man's suit jacket, his lapel neatly pressed. Peter's insides churned in anger. They were too close. He felt relief when the man walked away, the patch of fabric on the screen disappearing, fading to a bar scene.

* * *

><p>Olivia had encountered very strange things during her time as a Fringe agent, but nothing that would prepare her for what happened in that bar.<p>

All of a sudden, several men approached her.

"You know, I don't usually do this," one of the men began, "but you're just so beautiful. Want to get out of here?"

"Sorry sir, I'm here with —" Olivia began, but before she could really finish, the man who offered to buy her a drink interrupted.

"Yeah man, she's not interested. Back off."

"I think the lady can speak for herself," he countered, shoving the man a bit.

"Fuck off." He shoved back. "I was going to actually buy the lady another round."

"Like hell you were."

Before Olivia really knew what was happening, punches were being thrown, and the men started to fight, blow by blow, back and forth and were soon tossling on the ground

"What the hell?" Olivia said more confused than she'd ever been in her life. She yelled for them to knock it off, and attempted to pull one of them off the floor. She noticed Lee approaching at a trot from the back of the bar, and in the moment her attention was elsewhere, she was flung back into the bar. She stumbled, but luckily only her wrist had made contact with the hard wooden counter.

Instead of pulling the men apart, when Lee approached, he had a strange look in his eyes. "Agent Dunham, are you okay?"

Before she could answer, she felt his arms encircle her, one around her waist and the other behind her head. He pulled her in and began to kiss her.

When she pulled her head away, much to Lee's dislike, the first thing she saw was a strong fist soar past her, hitting Lee square in the cheek, knocking him down.

"Peter!" Olivia yelled, as she realized who the fist belonged to. "What the hell is going on!"

She stood between Peter and Lee, who were advancing towards each other. She pushed him backward several steps, out of the fray, but the anger in his eyes flared uncontrollably.

Broyles and several other agents flashed past them, raising their IDs and shouting.

"FBI! Break it up, break it up," Broyles yelled as he pulled two of the wrestling men to their feet. "We're looking for a man named Jeremy Webster. Is anyone in this bar acquainted with him?"

But the man who had purchased Olivia's first drink was already out the door, discreetly talking on his cell phone.

* * *

><p>Olivia pulled Peter outside the bar, away from the fray. She lead him by the hand forcefully until they were on the opposite side of the street.<p>

"What is the matter with you?" Olivia yelled, looking flustered, angry and mystified.

"I have no idea!" Peter countered. "I walked in because the fight started, and then I saw Lee—"

He couldn't finish the sentence, as the thought of Lee kissing her brought a rush of anger back to him. He stepped back from Olivia, huffing with rage, and ran his hands through his hair as he tried to calm himself.

"Peter! Peter!" Came a cry from down the street. Olivia and Peter looked to see Walter running clumsily from the FBI van. "Peter! It's the testosterone!"

"What?" Peter and Olivia said in unison.

"Olivia's been dosed! I don't know how quite yet but these are classic symptoms of excessive testosterone! The drug that Webster has been working on, it has reacted with the cortexiphan in Olivia's system and enhanced her pheromones. Any men who were at all attracted to her before she was dosed would feel the effects of her increased pheromones. The competition for Olivia in the bar and the increased testosterone caused the fight. I'm almost sure of it."

"Walter, I haven't been dosed with anything. No one's given me anything." Olivia crossed her arms in frustration and looked over at Peter. He was still livid with anger.

"If I am correct," Walter began. "There is going to be something on your shoulder. Where the man touched you."

"What?" Olivia said, immediately flicking her neck to look at her shoulder.

Barely visible on Olivia's freckled skin was a clear patch, looking like a circular piece of see-through tape. Peter and Olivia looked at each other once more, and he slowly extended his arm to remove the patch from her shoulder.

"Like a nicotine patch, or even birth control," Walter said, taking the small patch from Peter and putting it in a petri dish that he pulled from his pocket. "I imagine it has hormones on it that Webster was able to cultivate from the previous victims."

There was a pause as the three took in the information, Olivia breathing heavily, Peter still coming down from his rage.

"Peter, I imagine the hormones might take an hour or two to leave her system. You might want to go home and take a cold shower or something."

Peter shot a look at his father, rolling his eyes in sheer disbelief.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

I hit a little roadblock while writing this. Hope you guys like it none the less!

* * *

><p>Act IV<p>

* * *

><p>Back at the lab, Walter and Astrid were running tests on the patch they had pulled from Olivia's shoulder. Astrid was carefully entering data into the computer, and Walter was fuddling with the patch, via tweezers and a small dropper.<p>

"Now Olivia, I'm going to need a blood sample, while the hormones still have a possibility of being in your system."

Olivia was still in her black dress, drumming her fingers nervously on one of Walter's workspaces.

"Astro, would you mind, dear?"

Astrid turned from the computer, sighed and responded, "Alright Walter."

"What's going on in there?" Came Peter's far off voice. Walter had told him to go sit in the office, as the pheromones in Olivia's body would excite his testosterone levels. Peter had taken the news unsurprisingly, with a jolt of anger. He was pacing back and forth in the office, looking out the blurred window.

"Peter, I'm fine, I promise," Olivia said. Astrid prepared Olivia's arm and extracted a vial of blood. "Walter's just taking a blood sample."

"No experiments, Walter!" Peter yelled, exasperation in his voice. In defeat, he sank down at the table, placing his face in his hands.

"You're just lucky we didn't make you go home, son!" Walter responded, cheekily.

"How long are the effects going to last, Walter?" Olivia said, worry peeking through her voice.

"Not to worry, my dear. I suspect within the hour they will begin to wear off. Though, it may be difficult to tell, as we all know Peter's feelings involving you and my experiments."

"So you need to do some tests?"

"Oh, the blood sample should suffice. But Peter has always worried about you."

In the office, Peter had stood again, this time leaning against the door. "I know this is going to sound insane, seeing as you're standing in a separate room," he yelled. "But I can smell Olivia."

"What do you mean?" Olivia called back.

"I can smell you, as if I were standing right up close to you."

Olivia looked at Walter, slightly confused.

"Hmm. That must be the pheromones. They are clearly still enhanced. Because Peter is so familiar with you, in a romantic sense, they pheromones must have a particularly strong effect on his testosterone levels."

Olivia rolled her eyes. She rubbed the spot where Astrid had drawn blood. "Alright, I'm going to call Broyles, see how he's coming along with the witnesses from the bar."

She pulled out her phone as she walked out into the hallway. With a heavy sigh, she dialed Broyles up.

"Broyles." Came his deep, velvet voice.

"Hi, its Agent Dunham. I was wondering if you've made any progress with interviewing the witnesses from the bar? I know you took them all in at the scene."

"They all say they have no idea what happened. They'd seen you enter the bar, and briefly thought you were attractive. However, something seemed to take hold of them. Before they knew what was going on, I was pulling them off the floor and placing them under arrest for public disturbance."

"Hmm," Olivia said, nodding her head. "That seems to be consistent with what Peter said happened. He said he came in because he wanted to break up the fight but once he got within sight of me, he saw Lee and just lost it. He said it was as if all his animal instincts went into overdrive."

"Does Walter have any more theories?"

"Well, he said that since Peter knows me so well, his reaction was stronger. He drew some blood to run some tests but other than that, nothing new." There was a pause on the phone, in which Olivia inhaled deeply. "How's Agent Lee?"

"He's alright. Has a black eye and a bit of a bruised ego. He says he doesn't know what came over him. Does Walter know why it only effected certain men in the bar?"

"Well, he said that whatever drug I got dosed with works to enhance my pheromones, meaning if somebody had the slightest bit of attraction to me before the drug, then afterwards their testosterone levels would shoot through the roof. It works as kind of an aphrodisiac or a love potion."

"Interesting."

"Alright, well, I'll keep you updated, sir." With that, Olivia snapped her phone shut and returned to the lab.

Walter had entered the office and was currently in a bickering match with his son.

"There has got to be something you can give me to counter the effects of the pheromones." Peter half yelled.

"Unfortunately, son, there is no cure for attraction."

Olivia rolled her eyes a bit, becoming exasperated with the situation that presently engulfed them. Instead of worrying about Peter, she turned to Astrid.

"I know Broyles sent you the security tapes from the bar. Are you having any luck identifying the man who bought my first drink? He was the only one that had any physical contact with me before the… scuffle, so it had to have been him."

Astrid, eyes focused clearly on the computer, replied, "He keeps his back to the camera the entire time. He must have known where they were located in the building. I also couldn't find him in the bar when Webster was there. So we can't connect them through the security footage."

"Okay, well, I'm going to go work with a sketch artist, maybe that will give us some luck. I'll send you a file of the drawing when I'm done. Can you keep searching through the FBI databases to see if Webster had any known accomplices or anything?"

"Sure thing," Astrid said.

"And," Olivia said, motioning with her head to the office, "keep an eye on them. Make sure Peter doesn't accidentally kill Walter."

Astrid smirked and nodded in response.

* * *

><p>In her FBI office, Olivia sat down next to her computer to do some searching on Webster. She'd just finished with the sketch artist, who had sent the computer rendering to Astrid.<p>

She searched for pheromone enhancement and military projects. They hadn't found any records that Webster had served, but perhaps he had worked as a consultant. Yet, after about a half hour of searching, she still came up with no conclusive results.

It was late, so Olivia began to pack up some of her research to bring home. As she was sorting her files, a knock sounded at her door.

"Come in."

"Agent Dunham," said Agent Lee, whose left eye bore the unmistakable mark of the earlier event of the night.

Olivia immediately felt awkward. Given what Walter had told her about the way the pheromones worked, she knew Lee had been attracted to her before she had been dosed. She didn't particularly want to confront the issue, but clearly, Lee did.

"I uh," Lee paused, biting his lower lip and adjusting his glasses. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier today. It was completely inappropriate and I'm severely embarrassed."

"It's okay," Olivia nodded. "It was just a chemical reaction. Nothing much left to be said."

There was an awkward silence.

"Did anyone explain to you Dr. Bishop's findings?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, Broyles briefed me. And he sent me the computer rendering of Webster's accomplice."

Lee looked at the open files on Olivia's desk, that she had yet to pack in her bag. A printout of the unidentified suspect was visible. "I see you're looking into the accomplice too. Maybe we could bounce some ideas off each other. Go grab a drink or something while we have a think…"

Olivia, who still couldn't believe the events of the night, wanted nothing more than to return to the safety of her apartment. She was in disbelief that Lee was actually asking her out, given the denouement of the nights earlier situation.

Exhausted and extremely annoyed, Olivia , perhaps more bluntly than she intended, said "I'm dating Peter."

Lee raised his eyebrows in a look of comprehension. "Oh," he said softly. "That would explain the eye thing."

Olivia pursed her lips and shoved the remaining files in her bag. "Pretty much. I'm going to go now.."

She let her voice trail off, and left the office, leaving Lee standing embarrassed in her office.

* * *

><p>In the wee hours of the night, Olivia sat alone in her apartment going over the case files, trying to find a motive for Webster to be dosing cortexiphan women. It bothered her immensely. Usually she could so easily find a motive, understand what her suspects wanted. But with Webster, she was falling short. The events of the night seemed to throw her for a loop. The extra attention had disoriented her, and she felt determined to find a lead, wanting so much to put the entire ordeal behind her.<p>

A knock at her door interrupted her focus. She slipped off her black-framed glasses, leaving them atop the stacks of paper.

When she opened her front door, she found a peacoat clad Peter, leaning against the door frame.

"Peter," she said.

He looked at her guiltily.

"Didn't Walter say we shouldn't see each other for at least a few more hours?"

"I snuck out. Walter, despite having many hours to observe the practice of babysitting, is not very good at it."

She motioned him to come in and they made their way to her couch, sitting down in quiet.

"What are you doing here, Peter?" Olivia asked, very aware of the space she was placing between Peter and herself.

"I, uh, couldn't sleep. As it turns out, having my testosterone levels increased tenfold means I couldn't quite get you off my mind."

"Peter, if you're thinking—" Olivia said, getting a little exasperated at the ideas he was putting in her head.

"No, no, no," Peter laughed, putting his hand up to stop her thoughts. "That's not what I meant. But nice to know you're thinking so kindly of my current troubles."

"Okay, then what?" Olivia seemed tired.

"I'm sorry, 'Livia." He sighed heavily. "I've been crazy this entire case. Even before I had a hormonal reaction to blame."

He waited for Olivia's response. She looked at her hands, then at him, as if to give him permission to go on.

"You see, I've never been with a woman like you. I've never been with a woman who could save herself. And let's just say, most of the women I was involved with in the past had less then legal dealings in place, so it's not the danger that's new to me. It's more than just worrying about you though. You're just so different from everyone else. So strong on the outside, but inside—I just don't want to be a reason for your pain anymore, physical or emotional or—I just don't know why it's making me so crazy lately—I just—I…"

He was stuttering now, unable to articulate what it was that he really felt inside. Olivia moved closer to him, bringing her arms around him.

"Believe me, Peter," she said, lying her head against his shoulder. "I know."

She looked up at him now, as he held her. "But you belong with me. I know that. If I know anything for sure, it's that." She smiled as his words, the ones she once said to him. Peter leaned his forehead against hers, exhaling tentatively. "Maybe that's why you make me so crazy."

There lips met gently, as Peter brought his hand to her cheek, feeling the warmth of her blush.

* * *

><p>Olivia awoke, several hours later, to feel heat beneath her face. She was comfortable, cozily entangled up in Peter's long limbs. But they were not in her bed, she realized as she opened her hazy eyes. They were on the couch, still in last night's clothing. They'd fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from the emotional ups and downs of the day. Peter had covered them with his wooly coat. She felt peaceful, for once, unaware of the macabre in this strange reality, if only momentarily.<p>

Peter sensed her movement and opened his eyes.

"You were supposed to leave last night," Olivia taunted. "You're going to get us both in trouble."

"Eh," Peter said breathily. "Totally worth it." He kissed her forehead and rubbed his hand against the small of her back.

"So I have a question," Olivia mused.

"Mmm?"

"Yesterday you said you could smell me, as if I was standing right up close to you. What exactly do I smell like?"

"I don't know how to explain it, Liv. It's your scent. It's warm, a little sweet. Sunny, too. It smells like home."

Olivia laughed, emerging from the tangles of Peter's arms, coming to a standing position next to the couch.. "We need to go, we have a case to solve." She tapped his legs with her knees.

"Can we shower first?" said Peter, his mouth cocked in a devilish grin.

"Seriously, Peter?" Olivia said, rolling her eyes.

"Increased hormone levels, 'Livia. Its like the worst case of blue balls I've ever had."

Olivia laughed and padded to the kitchen, leaving Peter sprawled on the couch. Olivia's phone buzzed from the end table, so Peter picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Olivia?" a confused Astrid sounded from the other end.

"No, sorry it's Peter. What's up?"

"Well I spent last night scanning all the FBI data bases for our suspect. And you're never going to believe this."

"Yeah?" Peter asked.

"He grew up in Jacksonville, Florida, on a military base."

* * *

><p>AN: This is sorta disjointed—I got super busy and wasn't able to sit down and right this all at once. So if the flow's off, I apologize. Please review!


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